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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998000">Living At The Edge Of The World</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouiser_boudreaux/pseuds/ouiser_boudreaux'>ouiser_boudreaux</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Arcana (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, F/M, Face-Sitting, Human Disaster Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak Upright Ending, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Submissive Julian Devorak, interesting uses of sailing knots, listen Julian is horny at all times ok and so is his lady love in this story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:20:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouiser_boudreaux/pseuds/ouiser_boudreaux</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“By your standards,” Vissenta said with a satisfied sigh as Julian continued to rub at her scalp with his long, skilled fingers. “But that was most certainly a date. Date night with you tends toward personal endangerment and at least one illegal activity.”</p><p>Julian promised Vissenta adventure, and oh, the adventures they'll have. Assorted smutty standalones featuring my MC.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Just Try To See In The Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The dress itself was lovely. Ruby silk draped along Vissenta’s arms, and the rest of the low-cut bodice was just barely held in place by a midnight black corset. Layer upon layer of silk and tulle, deep red at the waist and flowing into black at the hem, swished around her legs at the slightest movement. She’d braided her deep brown hair and looped it into a crown that Portia had helped her adorn with red and black jeweled pins. It was just like Julian to surprise her with a gown that would match his own ensemble, really. “Let’s bid Nevivon farewell in style,” he’d said. Vissenta even spent some of her precious coin on a bright scarlet pair of heeled boots.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, at the present moment, the entire getup was terribly inconvenient.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking off at a sprint from the back door of the gambling hall, Vissenta hoisted her skirts up, cursing under her breath with every footfall and wishing she had at least one hand free to cast up some magical light, or wards, or even a damned illusion spell to throw the two burly bouncers off their scent. The heel of her left boot abruptly snapped off, caught on an overturned cobblestone, and with an exasperated shout she stopped to take both boots off, wedging them under one arm before resuming her mad dash to keep pace with Julian. “Remind me why I agreed to this ridiculous outfit again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian, unencumbered by a ridiculous wardrobe or ill-chosen footwear, grinned back over his shoulder. “Because you look </span>
  <em>
    <span>ravishing,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Vis. The cut of that bodice in </span>
  <em>
    <span>particular</span>
  </em>
  <span> kept the duke so distracted he didn’t even notice how badly he was losing his hand!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Scowling, Vissenta considered the advantages of lobbing a boot at Julian’s pretty auburn head. “Not distracted enough, apparently!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Details.” Julian practically skidded to a halt but, in that preternatural way of his, caught Vissenta by the elbow before she could collide with him. He spun her around, laughing all the while, and guided them both into a dark alleyway. “Here,” he said, stopping to catch his breath after setting Vissenta back down with care. “They won’t come looking down here for a few minutes yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally able to drop her voluminous, swishing skirts for a moment, Vissenta summoned the barest hint of light to illuminate the darkened pathway. “Absolutely not.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian scoffed. “What, scared of the dark?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta shot him her surliest glare. “Scared of those guards looking for us in the single most obvious place to find a couple of cardsharps on the run.” She craned her neck, looking around Julian’s lanky frame, and pointed to a walled-in cemetery just a short sprint away up the street. “That’s a much better hiding place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian turned. Even in the dim glow of the streetlamps, Vissenta saw him blanch. “You must be joking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From no great distance, Vissenta could hear two pairs of very large, very intimidating boots coming quickly round a corner they’d taken three turns ago. No time to waste. She seized Julian’s hand and took off at a clip, leaving him no choice but to come stumbling along after her. “I thought you loved my jokes, Ilya!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This one isn’t funny!” Still, Julian followed Vissenta, unable or unwilling to let go of her hand, and without a second thought he hoisted her over the stone wall she’d gestured to before vaunting over it himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta bit down on her knuckles to keep from bursting out into laughter. “I think it’s hysterical,” she stage-whispered as she finally turned her attention to her boots. With a moment to focus, she held the heel back in place and whispered a few words. Satisfied with her handiwork, she crouched down to put the boots back on. “Good thing it was a clean break. These boots cost a pretty penny.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> nice boots.” Julian reached out to toy with some stray hairs at the nape of Vissenta’s neck, where her braid was starting to come loose. “The matching stockings were, ah… a nice touch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta straightened and swatted Julian’s hand away. “When did you even see my stockings? Peeping on me changing again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian chuckled. “Your skirts were up to your knees back there. The whole city saw your stockings.” He started when Vissenta began to move further into the narrow rows of tombs and stones. “Where are you going?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta looked back at him and smirked. “What, scared of the dark?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even feigning annoyance, Julian looked slightly alarmed. He reached out a hand to gingerly poke at the closest slab of stone. “Scared of the dead, more like.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on.” Vissenta called up a dim glow in one hand, her other delicately holding her skirt up to just barely skim her ankles. “With a few exceptions, the dead tend to stay dead. They won’t have any argument with us visiting for a little while.” She grinned. “Besides, I’m almost nostalgic now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nostalgic?” Julian looped an arm around her waist, starting to smile in spite of himself. “Darling, we’ve had our share of hiding places, but I don’t recall a graveyard.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cemetery,” Vissenta corrected. “Didn't see a temple attached to this one.” Their eyes were adjusting to the light of the full moon, and soon she could let the magical light fade. She stopped in front of a polished white granite pyramid and let out a low whistle. “Now there’s a tomb you don’t see every day anymore.” She turned her head and spotted a raised mausoleum across the path. “Good a place to rest as any, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She plopped down to sit, resigned to the ruin of her gown, and leaned back against the stone. “You remember, don’t you?” She leaned her head back against the cool stone and closed her eyes, smiling at the memory. “Jumping over a wall to hide from some hired muscle? I seem to remember us doing that the night we met.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was not the night we met.” Even slouched and folded up against a mausoleum nestled in a crowded corner of a city cemetery, Julian was still nearly a head taller than Vissenta, and he took the opportunity to rest his cheek against her head, further mussing her crown of braids. “Ignoring the very first time around, we met the night I broke into the shop.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s right,” Vissenta said lightly, reaching up to unpin her hair and turn it into a properly wild mess. She didn’t even have to ask Julian for his help; he sat up a bit straighter and pulled off a glove in order to run his fingers gently through the waves that tumbled down around her shoulders. “Our first date, then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian plucked a stray pin that Vissenta missed and pocketed it. “That wasn’t a date.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“By your standards,” Vissenta said with a satisfied sigh as Julian continued to rub at her scalp with his long, skilled fingers. “But that was most certainly a date. Date night with you tends toward personal endangerment and at least one illegal activity.” She leaned into Julian’s touch, practically purring as he let his fingers slide down to rub circles between her shoulder blades.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t heard any complaints yet,” Julian whispered. He traced the shell of her ear lightly with his tongue, just barely, just enough to coax a shiver up her spine beneath his hand. “You did say you wanted adventure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmm.” Vissenta turned her head to meet his lips. “Would you like to show me some adventure now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rusted bolt at the cemetery gate let out a rasping shriek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both Julian and Vissenta froze. Voices followed the sound of the sliding bolt, cacophonous in the quiet night, and the gate creaked open. “Someone’s in there,” came a not-so-distant shout.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit oh shit oh shit--” Julian’s hiss crescendoed to a whisper and would have become much, much louder if Vissenta didn’t bowl him over and pin him to the ground, clapping a hand over his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Vissenta pressed all her weight on Julian, frantically summoning up a shielding charm with her free hand. She didn’t dare move a muscle for fear of disrupting the crude illusion that kept them out of sight. The voices grew closer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could’ve sworn I saw lights over here,” said the first man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seein’ ghosts again?” His companion’s reply was bored and exasperated. “Better lay off the drink before your watch shift or the priest’s gonna have both our hides.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two men, clearly not the dangerous armed guard that had been chasing two finely-dressed young people through the streets, wandered back in the direction of the gate, and all the while Vissenta kept her hand firmly over Julian’s mouth and her body pressed flush against his to hold him in place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She held her breath and her illusion spell until she heard the gate swing closed. Only then did she exhale, loosening her grip slightly on Julian. When she shifted, her thigh brushed up against something that could be felt even through the layers of her skirts. She narrowed her eyes and stared down at Julian. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span> right now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian moaned against Vissenta’s hand and nodded. His pulse had quickened, and his breathing was labored, but he didn’t move to push her off of him or even move her hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only now did Vissenta notice that one of his hands had ended up on her rump, and he was now giving it a firm squeeze. She reached for a curl of hair at his nape and gave it a sharp tug. “Did I say you could touch me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even in the moonlight she could see that Julian flushed a deep red. His eyelids fluttered as he moaned again, letting go of Vissenta to bring his hands above his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a purring sound that bordered on a growl, Vissenta rolled her hips. “That’s my good boy.” She sat up and rocked back on her heels, taking her hand from Julian’s mouth, and patted herself down to find something suitable to hold Julian in place. “Don’t even think about speaking,” she whispered to him as she began to tear at the hem of her innermost petticoat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But--” Julian’s strangled whimper of protest at Vissenta destroying her new gown died in his throat at the look Vissenta gave him. He bit his lip, chest heaving.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta leaned forward to loop the scrap of fabric around Julian’s wrists. She angled herself so she stayed hovered over him, letting the curve of her breasts against the top of her corset just barely brush his cheek. When she leaned back down to bring her face to his, she ran her fingers through his hair and grabbed a fistful of it once more, yanking his head to the side and giving him a sharp nip where his jaw met his neck. “What did I say?” She whispered, breath warm against his ear, and rolled her hips again. “I’d gag you if I didn’t have other plans for that pretty mouth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian’s strangled whimper caught in his throat as Vissenta trailed more nips and bites down his neck and along his collarbone. He stayed quiet, though, his body tense with the effort to not rock up against Vissenta. This earned a low, humming laugh from Vissenta, who was gathering her skirts up around her waist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How about a closer look at these stockings, love?” With the mass of tulle and silk and satin bunched around her middle, Vissenta moved her body up along Julian’s, settling her red-clad legs along his cheekbones. “You know, I was hoping we’d have a moment alone for you to see them.” She didn’t move any closer, teasing him, just close enough to let him see that she’d gone bare. He was trying to control himself now, she could tell, but his heavy, measured breaths ghosted warm and inviting up her inner thighs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta held back, just a while longer, hovering just out of his reach. “I was going to let you explore,” she whispered, her thighs aching with the effort to stay in this position. “I saw this skirt and said oh, I know Julian could fit underneath. Maybe we’ll find a quiet hallway, maybe we’ll excuse ourselves from a boring dinner, maybe he could have his favorite dessert.” Julian’s breathing was ragged now, and Vissenta felt her own desire pooling at her core, but just a little longer, just a little…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She threaded the fingers of her free hand through his hair once more. “But that’s never enough for you, is it?” Finally, slowly, she brought herself lower, still just out of reach, still only close enough to feel his lips barely brush against her. “Never just a quiet dinner with Julian, oh no. You wanted the danger, you wanted the cheap thrills, you wanted to feel alive.” She tightened her grip, yanking on his hair, roughly pulling him up. “My turn now, Ilya.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first long, slow trace of Julian’s tongue along Vissenta’s folds always made her shiver. She rocked against his mouth, gasping. “That’s it,” she whispered, settling herself fully against her heels, still holding on to him tightly by the hair. “Oh, my good boy, that’s it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian was like a man starved, angling upward to really, truly taste Vissenta, savoring her as she ground against him. He nearly couldn’t breathe, almost didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to breathe, at least not anything that wasn’t her. His tongue delved in, and out, and in, and just as Vissenta groaned in frustration he turned his attentions higher. She’d been right; even the finest desserts plated by the most renowned patissiers of Prakra couldn’t compare to this, the sweetest berry he’d ever tasted. He let his tongue linger there, drawing out a shuddering moan from Vissenta that might as well have gone all the way to his straining cock, for all the ways he felt it. He traced light circles, teasing her just as badly as she’d teased him, looking to draw her ire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He certainly earned it. Vissenta hissed, pulling harder on his hair now, pushing herself down to his mouth. “Make me come, Ilya,” she said, her voice low and commanding and nearly enough to send Julian over the edge, nearly enough to make him come in his trousers, but he managed to keep his wits about him, because above all else, he was eager to please.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Desperate to please.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta could feel that desperation in his renewed efforts, in the way he pressed his tongue into her and the way he nuzzled against her, pressing his face into her, breathing and eating and drinking so deeply and--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had to bend double and bury her face in her bunched-up skirts to muffle her cry. She was bucking against Julian’s face now, grabbing his hair with both hands, chasing the aftershocks with abandon as he kept lapping greedily, still with his hands obediently over his head, still following her wherever she went. He’d follow her to the ends of the earth, and nearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> before, but right now all he wanted was to follow her pleasure, to chase it down and serve it at her every whim, and so he melted into her as she pulled him along by his mussed auburn hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After she finally stilled, Vissenta reached up to undo the knotted fabric around Julian’s wrists. He took this as his cue to reach for her, to stroke her thighs and then her back as she eased her way back down to lay against him, easing up her hold to smooth the hair from his forehead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gave him a lazy smile, the cat who got into the cream, and Julian would have lost a thousand card games to see that smile every night of his life. He returned the gesture, running his ungloved hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “Never thought you’d feel so alive in a cemetery, eh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Graveyard,” Vissenta mumbled, leaning up to plant a gentle, lingering kiss on his lips. “They said something about a priest. Must have a temple attached after all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A low laugh rumbled in Julian’s chest. “Desecrating holy ground? This is your idea of a date?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta sat up and smoothed her skirts primly. “Just living up to your standards.” She stood up with surprising grace and balance for a woman who’d just wrung out an electrifying orgasm on her paramour’s face and held out her hand. “Come on. What is it you like to say? Best make tracks?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian took her hand and pulled himself up. “Lead the way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a snort, Vissenta pulled them both along to the gate, which the tipsy guard had left unbolted. “The next time you talk about taking me out on the town for the night, I’m tying you to the mast to keep you out of trouble.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian pulled her to him, and she could feel his heartbeat thrumming as he leaned down to steal another kiss. “Promise?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*taps mic* swipe your nose like a credit card</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Unaware Of The Changes At Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Vissenta receives an update to her wardrobe and makes good on earlier promises.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Vissenta woke to the familiar hum of activity above deck: mingled shouts, the creaking of the rigging, Mazelinka barking orders, the anchor winching down. She stretched, at least as much as the cot would allow, and blinked at the absence of Julian’s familiar warmth. Grumbling, she swung her legs out and planted her feet on the smooth planks below. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just like him to let me sleep through docking.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still yawning, she hunted the cabin for clothes. Her loose black dimije were easy enough to find, still in a puddle of fabric on the floor where Julian had left them the night before in his haste to get her to bed. Unfortunately, all of her tunics were conspicuously missing. Vissenta smiled in spite of herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Incorrigible.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She picked up one of Julian’s shirts and slipped it over her head, taking in a deep breath. Leather, liquor, lingering notes of the sea-salt air, and something just so uniquely... Julian. With practiced ease, Vissenta tucked and wrapped the loose white fabric around her torso, tying it in place with her sash, and rolled up the sleeves. She climbed up the ladder to the deck, still barefoot, and padded along the deck towards the bow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mazelinka had put Julian to work in the rigging, securing the topsail, and Vissenta shielded her eyes to look up at him. It still gave her a thrill to watch him like this, so clearly in his element, balanced on the yardarm as easy as breathing. He spotted her and his face broke into a grin. “What a delightful shirt you have on, Visha. Is it new?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta was glad that she wasn’t close enough for Julian to see her blush at the diminutive nickname. It wouldn’t do for him to know just how embarrassed she got at that sort of easygoing public intimacy, emerging from their shared cabin in his clothes notwithstanding. She crossed her arms and cocked her head. “Seems like there’s a thief on the ship. One who likes small ladies’ tunics.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian started his nimble descent down the mast. “Do you hear that, Mazelinka? There’s a criminal on board!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From Vissenta’s left side came Mazelinka’s unmistakable huff. “Criminal nothing. I think that boy wants for a little punishment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta smirked sideways at her. “Not letting him go ashore sounds like plenty of punishment to me,” she replied. “You remember how fast we had to leave Nevivon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d just as soon forget.” Her retort was as grouchy as ever, but the crinkle around Mazelinka’s eyes betrayed her before too long. She flashed Vissenta an iron-toothed smile. “Have you eaten? Nothing left but the biscuits, I’m afraid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta grinned back. “Biscuits sound just lovely. I’ll go find Portia.” She jerked her head at Julian, who’d landed on the deck and was sauntering their way. “And tell Doctor Tightpants here that his shore leave request is denied.” She turned and practically skipped away, laughing with delight at the sounds of dismayed protest coming from Julian behind her.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian leaned forward against the railing, arms crossed, casting a stormy glare at the dinghy rowing ashore. “There’s a wonderful pub at this port, you know.” He cut his gaze to Vissenta. “Is this really about your clothes? I can give them back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta rolled her eyes. “I could guess where you hid them in three tries, tops.” She was facing the opposite direction, staring thoughtfully at the mast. “A quiet night together can’t be so bad, can it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stammering, Julian waved a hand toward the docks. “But… but… we could have a quiet night out there…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta pushed off from the railing and went to run her hand along a coil of rope that draped down, looped around a hook on the mast. “Not the sort of night I had in mind, we couldn’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Julian turned to face her. His gaze went to her hand on the rope, then dropped to her face, and then back again. He licked his lips, mouth suddenly gone dry. “W-what sort of night, then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The slow smile Vissenta gave him was wicked and taunting. “I seem to remember promising to tie you to this mast.” Her eyes widened and she schooled her expression into one of sincere concern. “For your own good, of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian’s stare had gone glassy and dazed and he just stood, seemingly rooted to the spot, until Vissenta snapped her fingers. At the sound he jumped to attention and scrambled forward, clumsy and eager, and practically offered his wrists up to Vissenta.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t going to just give it to him that easy. Arching one eyebrow, she looked him up and down, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks, his open shirt, his already tight pants growing impossibly tighter over the swelling bulge at their front. She let her eyes travel slowly back up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze and she stepped forward, pressing a hand to his chest. He turned with her and backed up, giving in to her guidance, and soon his back was against the mast. Vissenta leaned up on tiptoes to gently nip at his earlobe. “Grab the hook,” she murmured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian did as he was told, not once looking away from Vissenta. She, meanwhile, was busy looking for a boost up to reach the hook that Julian was now gripping for dear life. With a satisfied hum she found a good-sized crate and shoved it around the mast. She climbed up, delighted at how easily she could reach the hook and how her cleavage was now directly in Julian’s line of vision. She made a great show of considering the scene before her, resting one elbow in her other hand, tapping her bottom lip as she leaned in closer to him. “Now, what knot should I use again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A… a bowline, perhaps?” Julian’s voice was thick, rasping with want.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta shook her head. “You’ll slip from a bowline before I can count to three.” She tilted her head and smiled. “But a running bowline, that might do the trick.” She grabbed the rope, shaking it out until she found the end, and set to work. “I knew those knot-tying lessons would come in handy one day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A rakish grin broke through his haze of arousal and spread across Julian’s face. “Why do you think I showed you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a final tug, Vissenta hopped down from the crate. “Be a darling and come give me a kiss, would you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Julian leaned forward and tried to bring his hands down, the knots did their work. All slack disappeared and the loops tightened in place, leaving him well and truly attached to the rigging. All signs of teasing humor vanished and he bit his lip and groaned. He leaned back against the mast once more and wrapped his fingers around the hook. “Afraid I can’t, Visha.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm, silly me.” Vissenta slid her fingers beneath the fabric of his shirt and brushed his chest with a feather-light touch, delighting in how he tensed and shivered and strained to meet her hand. She ran the pad of her thumb over one nipple, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Julian which turned to a barely-suppressed whine when she abruptly went from a gentle stroke to a light pinch. She smiled up at him through her lashes. “I’ve always liked these shirts of yours.” She reached up to stroke his shoulders next, then brought her fingernails down along his collarbone. “Always so open, always inviting me in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They look… better… on you…” Julian panted under Vissenta’s ministrations, starting to actually strain in earnest against the rope. The more he struggled, the tighter the knots became. He tried to duck his head down to catch Vissenta’s lips with his, but she stepped away just out of reach.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She began to toy with her sash. “Do you think so?” Delicately, she loosened the sash, loosening Julian’s over-large shirt with it, and let the wide neck of the shirt fall so that her shoulder came into view. She slid it down a bit further, exposing one breast to the cool night air, and licked her thumb. She held Julian’s gaze, her eyes on him steady as she brought the thumb down to brush at her nipple, which pebbled under her touch. Working slow, steady circles, she moaned, a sound that Julian matched, striking a chord that hummed over the steady rhythm of the ropes that creaked with Julian’s renewed struggles. “I think it might look better off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t only Julian’s hands straining now. Vissenta shrugged the shirt back up, covering herself, and ignored Julian’s groan of protest. Instead, she looked lower, licking her lips at the sight of Julian’s rock-hard erection straining against the fastenings of his trousers. “I know what else might look better off,” she said, kneeling down. Her fingers made quick work of the buttons, loosening the falls and freeing his cock. She lightly brushed her lips at the tip of him, smiling all the while. “Now, that must be more comfortable, hm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not… exactly…” Julian’s knees were starting to buckle and he gave up on trying to slip free of his bonds. He let out a full-throated moan as Vissenta’s tongue danced along his length and involuntarily thrust forward into her open mouth. He froze and looked down, worry creasing his brow. “Vis… Visha, are you all right...?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In answer, Vissenta took him fully into her mouth, digging her nails into his exposed hipbones to pin him back to the unyielding mast as she worked him, running her tongue along the underside of his shaft, pushing as far down onto him as she could stand, letting him feel the back of her throat. Her shoulder slipped free of the shirt again, and she came up for air, pulling her lips from base to tip until she let go with a soft, wet pop. She smiled up at him coyly. “I’m more than all right, good boy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the endearment, Julian closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the mast, struggling to hold himself up properly, sagging so much that the loops of rope around his wrists were almost too tight, slowly cutting off the feeling from his fingers. Abruptly, he felt Vissenta’s warm, wet mouth on him again, one of her hands scratching lines along his inner thigh, the other cupping him, gently at first, and then with the brush of fingernails. He let out a hiss through clenched teeth. “Fuck. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vissenta pulled away once more. “Oh, not for a while yet,” she said, but then she took him in again, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked, pushing him ever closer to the edge before pulling him back, riding the waves of his frustration until she knew he was at his absolute limit, and finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she pushed his cock back as far into her throat as she could take him, relishing his cry of her name into the still night as he spent himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They lingered like that for a moment before Vissenta drew away, a trace of Julian’s come spilling from her lips. She carefully buttoned Julian’s trousers back and stood, caressing him gently, soothing the places she’d nearly drawn blood from along his hips and sides. She stepped up on the crate to start working on loosening the knots, and Julian craned his head up to meet her lips. She couldn’t help her small gasp of delight when his tongue flicked out to taste the remnants of himself against the corner of her mouth. “Oh, my good, </span>
  <em>
    <span>filthy</span>
  </em>
  <span> boy,” she said, smiling into his kiss. “I could keep you tied to this mast forever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julian shifted and flexed his fingers. “You could, but I’d very much like to take my shirt back from you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a final flourish, Vissenta undid the bowline. “Your shirt? Oh no. It’s my shirt now.” She shrieked as Julian dove into her, wrapping his arms around her middle and tugging at the shirt’s open neck with his teeth. Her shrieking was so loud, in fact, that they nearly missed Mazelinka’s irritated shout from the dinghy below.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hoi there! Make yourselves decent and haul us up!”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I WANT YOU TO TOUCH THAT LIL DANGLY THANG THAT SWING IN THE BACK OF MY THROAT</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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